The Devil's Grasp
by Sapphire1112
Summary: Connie's inner struggles. I do not own the characters. Strachamp.
1. Chapter 1

**Connie**

Charlie was my last chance. I had hoped for a little bit of understanding. After all, it was the attack that led to this. The attack wasn't my fault. But Charlie was disappointed in me, and I can't bare it. He's the nearest thing to a father I have now. He told me to sort myself out. He said that I'd got myself into this mess – and do you know what? He was right.

All this time, I've been telling myself that my weakness was caused by the attack on me – apportioning blame on the poor bereaved man, who let his grief turn to anger and directed it at me. What happened to me after that was not his fault. He was wrong to do what he did, that much is true. He had no right and hurting me didn't bring his wife back. But I could have asked for help after it happened and I didn't. As usual, I was determined to get through it alone. I would not – could not allow others to see that I was struggling. Connie Beauchamp can rise above anything.

I would not let what happened take claim on me, so I found my way through it, but in doing so, I have lost myself along the way. I am no longer Connie Beauchamp. I don't recognise who I am anymore and I am no longer worthy of being Grace's mother. What would she think if she saw me like this?

It was not the attack that did this to me. It was not the crash or Steph – the woman who caused it and it was not nearly losing my daughter or her father taking her away from me. It was not the Cancer. It was not even Sam Strachan – the only man with any real hold over me. I did this to myself.

But even now, I have what's left of my reputation and I need to hold onto it. That's why I have to do this alone. It's the only way because I've gone past the point of asking for help from others now. I can not risk Grace seeing what I've become. She'll think I have abandoned her again and I can hardly bare it, but it's better than her seeing me like this. I have to protect her. And Sam.

He's going to kill me when he thinks I've abandoned her – not that I care what Sam thinks. I shouldn't care what Sam thinks. I really shouldn't. But I do. As much as I want to 'not care', to hate his very being, I do care and I always will. I hate him and I love him – and I wish so much that he was here now, but he isn't and he won't be, because he doesn't know.

I am doing this on my own, because it's the only choice left. I don't know how strong I am, but I guess I'm going to find out. This is when I see if Connie Beauchamp is still in there – still fighting.

This is when I find out if Connie Beauchamp can survive the devil's grasp.


	2. Chapter 2

I approach Connie's front door with caution and slot the key, I persuaded Grace to lend me into the lock.

I wonder whether Connie is going to be more mad at me or Charlie. Probably me. Connie is always mad at me – its kind of our thing, and she respects Charlie as a father-figure.

The atmosphere between Connie and I was still slightly frosty the last time she stayed with us, but it was considerably better than it had been. Taking Grace the way I did, was a very bad choice on my part, so I can't blame her for being angry about that, but Connie has had an awful lot to deal with since – events that she kept us in the dark about until after. We should have been here and we weren't. This time, it's going to be different. This time, I know what's going on.

Connie, as usual was intent on keeping me in the dark, but Charlie had other ideas – which is why I think she might be annoyed with him when she finds out. She's a stubborn woman and determined to do everything alone. She is her own worst enemy. I suspect rather a lot of it has to do with her reputation. That is usually the case with Connie. Connie Beauchamp can not be seen to be weak. She is superhuman and nothing touches her.

As far as Connie is concerned, having an addiction is weak. Rather than getting professional help at a properly equipped facility where she might be recognised, she has decided to shut herself off from everybody and go cold turkey in her own home, despite the dangers that could present.

She didn't directly say that was what she was doing but Charlie wasn't born yesterday. He wasn't happy with me being kept in the dark again or with the fact that Grace might think she was being abandoned again and as he said, trying to cope with things alone was how Connie got into this mess in the first place. She's never been any good at asking for help, and its always been her downfall.

I think the other reason that Connie is trying to do this alone, is that she's terrified of Grace finding out. She can't bear the thought of our daughter seeing her as anything other than a superhero. What Connie doesn't get is that Grace will always think that, no matter what.

I didn't tell Grace any more than I had to, nor did I tell my mother, whom Grace is staying with back in America during my absence. My mum has never been Connie's biggest fan – often finding a reason to put her down, including in front of Grace. We've had numerous arguments about that. Anyway, I'm not going to give mum any more ammo to criticise Connie with, so they both know she's poorly because I had to tell them something, but I gave them no details. Of course, Grace's first thought was that the Cancer had come back. I managed to reassure her that it wasn't the case, but I still had quite a job persuading her not to accompany me on this trip. Eventually, she accepted that her mum would be distressed if Gracie saw her when she was run down and unwell, and after making me promise to bring her mum to see her when she was well enough, Grace allowed me to come and see Connie alone.

Connie doesn't know I'm here yet. I'm a little apprehensive of what I might find and what her reaction to seeing me might be. I'm a doctor and I know she's in withdrawal, but as she won't answer the door to Charlie, and only answers his texts, not phone calls, I have no idea how bad she is.

I open the door with Gracie's key and go in. Connie might be angry at me but in the circumstances, being angry at me is probably the last thing on her mind, so I'm going to bite the bullet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Connie**

As I lie shivering, upstairs in my sweat-sodden bed, I'm aware of someone coming into the room, but I decide I must be imagining it and put it down to my current state. The only person around here who had a spare key to my house was Charlie and I managed to swipe it before I shut myself in this hell-hole – a bit stupid and dangerous maybe, but I can't risk anyone seeing me like this. I don't have a job to go back to because I resigned, but if I stand any chance of being '_the_ Connie Beauchamp' again in the future, then what reputation I have left must remain intact. More to the point, I can not afford any news of my current condition getting back to America.

Grace is my number one priority. I have to be the strong, independent mother she knows and loves. I can not give her any reason to worry. She must not suspect that I'm _not_ perfectly ok, other than missing her. I am so ashamed of what I have become, but I can't cope with the thought of her being ashamed of me too. Whatever happens, I will not let my daughter get hurt.

My head is a confused mess of pain, frustration and other negative feelings. I am unable to regulate my body temperature at the moment, and sometimes the stomach cramps are relentless, so I tend to lie curled up in a ball on my side, with my back to the door as its easier to reach for the water off my bedside table. The said glass of water is usually empty because it often only gets refilled from the tap in my en-suite if I go in there. The water from that tap is never very cold. I have a tank of drinking water in the fridge in the kitchen, that also offers me ice – cubed or crushed, but I haven't been downstairs for a while. Goodness knows how much post is down there and I can't remember when I last ate a hot meal. I brought a packet of plain biscuits upstairs at the beginning of this and I've managed the odd one, but they're a bit stale now anyway. My bed isn't very comfortable because I kept getting cold sweats, so I'm frozen. If I do make it to the en-suite, it's awful when I get back into bed, but I don't have the energy to change the bed or my pyjamas. I can't imagine I smell very nice. Actually, I'm surprised that I haven't caught a chill yet. I did managed to have a shower a few days ago, but it was such an effort with the shivering and the cramps, and my legs are weaker than normal because I'm not eating properly. I knew this wasn't going to be easy but this is proving to be a lot harder than I thought it would be and as much as I hate to admit it, maybe I can't do this all on my own.

I'm lying in my usual position now and I'm vaguely aware of the footsteps on the carpet and someone sitting on the bed behind me. It can't be Charlie and I daren't turn around to see who it is, so I just wait. I know who I want it to be.

An arm I'd recognise anywhere drapes itself gently over me, and though part of me is against embracing Sam Strachan, the other part of me welcomes him. He's so warm and I'm so cold. He's clearly not going to speak, but then what can he say? I've got myself in this mess.

"Hi Sam" I manage to mumble.

"Hi Con" he answers "how are you feeling?"

What a stupid question! What does it _look_ like?

"Terrific!" I mutter as sarcastically as I can manage. It sounds rather feeble compared to normal and it doesn't have the same effect.

"By that, I assume you mean 'terrible'," he chuckles lightly, obviously thinking it'll make me feel better. It doesn't.

He's been here less than five minutes and he's already irritating me beyond words. It would have been fine if he hadn't spoken. I initiated the conversation, so that was a mistake on my part. He was quite a comfort to me until he opened his mouth.

I remove his arm from around me with slight reluctance. I don't have the energy to move away, so I just remain staring at the wall by the curtained window, stubbornly wrapped up in my tormented thoughts.

"Con..."

His involuntary distress at me pushing him away is badly cloaked, and though the 'Connie Beauchamp' in me has resurfaced and would normally be untouched by it, she is not yet strong enough and his disappointment prickles me.

"No" I respond simply, but I'm unable to say more. There is one thing and one thing only that has been on my mind since I realised he was here "Grace?"

"In America with Mum" he tells me "she just thinks you are very run down and you've caught a bad bug. She made me promise to take you back to see her when you're well enough."

This confuses me slightly and when he attempts to comfort me again, it doesn't go down well. I certainly won't be well enough to fly to America any time soon and his last comment suggests that he is in this for the long haul. _I_ want to believe that, but Connie Beauchamp doesn't believe it for a second and I definitely don't want him around if he's going to let me down again. If he's going to leave, its better if he goes now.

"You better go, Sam" I state – my voice suddenly void of any emotion.

"Wha-" he sounds so confused. Have I got this wrong – does he really want to look after me?

A lump rises in my dry throat. A lump that Connie Beauchamp quickly stamps on. I swallow.

"You shouldn't have bothered coming and if I fall asleep, you will be gone when I wake up, so its better if you go now" I'm glad that I can't see his face at this point. I might not be able to say this, and I need to know if he really means it "you don't do long-term, Sam. You never have and the only things you care about are Grace and yourself, so go. I'll come over to America when I'm better."

I'm almost exhausted from such a long speech after not using my voice for so long and there is a burning sensation in my eyes that is unfamiliar to Connie Beauchamp and she fights against it.

The other part of me is terrified that Sam will do exactly what I've said – that this will be one of the rare times he actually listens to me. I'm desperate for him to look after me - its all I've ever wanted, but if he's going to let me down again, I need to know.

At least one part of my mind is more peaceful now. Grace is ok and she doesn't know.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sam**

"_You shouldn't have bothered coming and if I fall asleep, you will be gone when I wake up, so its better if you go now" I'm glad that I can't see his face at this point. I might not be able to say this, and I need to know if he really means it "you don't do long-term, Sam. You never have and the only things you care about are Grace and yourself, so go. I'll come over to America when I'm better."_

That hurt. It really hurt and I have trouble getting my words out for a minute – it doesn't help that I don't actually know what I'm trying to say. I mean, how do I convince her that I'm staying? Instead of the words I can't find, I replace my arm where it was before she removed it. I only have myself to blame for this after the way I've treated her in the past.

She doesn't remove my arm again straight away and by the time she makes her move to do so, I've remembered Charlie's words.

"_It's the little things that matter the most."_

Wise words from a wise man. Of course, they came after giving me a piece of his mind about the way I left suddenly with Grace – despite it being while ago, and the fact Connie and I have more or less got past that selfish hurdle I put in the way. He's never had an opportunity until now, to voice his disgust at my behaviour over that and clearly thinks that I should not be allowed to avoid a telling-off from someone who sees Connie as a daughter.

Charlie said that what ever happened next to Connie – starting with the Cancer, were made a whole lot worse by what I did. My actions were a catalyst for everything else. I didn't directly give her the Cancer, but by acting the way I did, it made Connie feel more alone than ever and that's why she was even more determined to deal with everything by herself. He said according to Ethan, who Connie was mentoring at the time, when he worked out what was happening to her, she was in complete denial and it took him so long to persuade her she needed help that it was very nearly fatal. Charlie and Ethan both firmly believe that had I not left, I would had noticed that something was wrong a lot sooner than anyone else and, as the former put it:

"_Like it or not, Sam, you have a way of getting through her stubborn exterior and making her listen."_

That's what I need now.

Likewise, Charlie believes that had it not been for my previous actions, and if I had been around, Connie would have told someone she was struggling after the brutal attack – and she wouldn't be in this mess now. A lot of what he said was harsh and it hit home. What he doesn't realise is that I completely agree and have reprimanded myself over a thousand times for both what I did and the fact that we weren't there. I regret everything I've done to her, but I did it and I can't go back because I don't have a time machine. I can only go forwards.

After what I did back then, I thought there was no hope. As far as I could see, I had destroyed anything we had as well as any potential of a future with her. At first when she did, she could barely look at me – and if she did it was for Grace's purely benefit because as far as she was concerned, us leaving for America was Connie's idea for her sake. It was Connie's Sacrifice. As I said, things were a much better the last time she stayed, so I hoped a reunion wasn't out of the question. Now she needs me, but she doesn't believe that I'm going to stay. Well, I'm not leaving until I can take her back on the plane with me.

"_It's the little things that matter the most."_

Charlie's words repeat in my head over and over so when Connie goes to remove my arm again, I simply whisper:

"_please don't"_

And she doesn't argue. I don't say anything else for a while, because Connie seems to appreciate my silence. After a while though, I think about how cold and uncomfortable she must be – and I notice the empty glass.

It's going to take time to convince her that I'm not going anywhere, but I know how to do it.

"Right, Sam," I tell myself. "The little things."


	5. Chapter 5

**Connie**

Sam sits up, his arm reaching over me.

"I'll go and get you some cold water out of the fridge" he suggests.

I don't answer because I'm not expecting it and I'm rather lost for words. He sits up further and goes to remove the arm that is still resting over me, but I automatically grab onto his hand. He squeezes mine.

"Its ok. I won't be long" he tells me softly.

He seems surprised by my obvious reluctance to let him leave – but not as surprised as me. Five minutes ago I never wanted to see him again. My weak, stubborn side screams at me for letting him in. I let him go – still reluctantly, but I've realised I'm actually quite thirsty and the cold water he is offering is a welcoming proposition. He reaches over me to pick up the empty glass, and then its his turn to surprise me. He hesitates slightly, then leans down and kisses the side of my forehead before standing up.

After he's left the room, I can't help but smile a little, despite how awful I feel – and in spite of Connie Beauchamp's feeble protests. The smile is quickly wiped away though when I'm overtaken by another cramp. Afterwards, I realise that I haven't had one for a while, but that was awful. It takes a quite a long time for Sam to return, but just as I'm starting to wonder whether he's having trouble with the water machine in the fridge, I hear his light footsteps coming into the room. I wait for him to come around the bed. He places the glass of icy water on my bedside table.

"I remembered that Grace said you like crushed ice best." He comments proudly.

Its then that I notice the pile of bedding and blankets tucked under his other arm. He came back via the airing cupboard.

"I'm going to change your sheets" he explains "Its not good for you to be in a cold bed. Why don't you have a shower to warm up?"

I avert my eyes from his in embarrassment. "I can't stand up in the shower at the moment. My legs are weak – and the cramps..." I mumble – half hoping that he can't hear my answer. I never thought in a million years that I'd ever be in this position. "I must smell awful. I'm sorry."

He crouches down and persuades me to look at him again. "Hey, you smell fine" he says kindly "How about putting some clean pyjamas on for now, so you're more comfortable? Can you manage if I help you to the bathroom?"

I nod and slowly sit up. Sam offers me his hands and gently pulls me to my feet. I lean quite heavily on him as he gets me some clean pyjamas and helps me to the en suite. His strong muscular frame is a lot more comforting than I remember.

"Just give me a shout if you need a hand." He tells me, shutting the door behind him.

I must confess to being surprised – not only by how caring and attentive he's being, but also by my own willingness to accept his efforts after everything he's done in the past. This feels like a dream – no, not a dream. A nightmare judging by how awful I feel. Except Sam Strachan is in it and he wants to look after me. A nightmare with dream-like qualities, maybe.

My dream. Connie Beauchamp's nightmare.


End file.
